“The choices that are open to us in response to our experiences of God’s loving, threatening call may sometimes be excruciatingly difficult to execute, but they are quite simple to understand. There are really only three options; we have already touched on them all in our discussion, and most of us have already used them all extensively in our lives. First, we may try to deny or avoid God’s call, repressing our desire and displacing its energy. Much of the time we are successful at this, but the call is bound to break through our defenses and haunt us with gentle nudges or hound us with relentless yearnings. Second, we may make images of spiritual reality, cellular representations that enable us to feel a measure of power over it instead of remaining dependent upon it. Third, we can try to be present to the mystery in a gentle, open-handed, and cooperative way. This is the contemplative option – not any system of complicated exercises, but the simple and courageous attempt to bear as much as one can of reality just as it is. To be contemplative, then, is not to be a special kind of person. Contemplation is simply trying to face life in a truly undefended and open-eyed way. I am convinced that all people are continually involved in choosing among these three options. Like most other decisions we make in daily life, our responses to God’s call often take place automatically, without any real reflection. They just happen as results of barely conscious processes that we seldom take responsibility for. When we do begin to claim our choices in response to our hunger for God, we have begun an intentional spiritual life. Then, of course, we are liable to go over-board in the opposite direction, taking it too much upon ourselves, thinking that the choices we make will absolutely determine our spiritual destiny.
But it is not so simple. Each of the three options has its assets and liabilities, its grace and its dark side. While denial and avoidance are usually only attempts to escape further into the delusion of salvation through attachment, they may, on a temporary and expedient basis, provide us with time and energy to secure ourselves in other areas of life and thereby build up enough courage to turn around and face reality. The making of representations of God can be used to create an artificial puppet God whom we can manipulate superstitiously, but it can also be a way of communicating symbolically with and about the reality of God. And in spite of how reverently I have described the contemplative way, it too can become distorted into denial of life or escapism by devaluing the cellular representations that our brains require to function naturally.
Thus, here again we see the gentle uncertainties that always caress our capacity to choose. From the outside of things, there is no way to be sure what the one “right” choice might be at any given time, for grace can be present in “wrong” choices as well. From the inside, where we might be more in touch with our true longing for God, the “right” choice is simply the one that springs most directly from that longing and reflects it most authentically. Prayer, Scripture, sacraments, spiritual community, and self-examination can all be sources of guidance as we seek to make such choices. But finally, even here at the heart of our human freedom, we are dependent upon the mercy of God.
In addition to struggling to make the best choices, we also have the problem of trying to follow through on the choices we make. Because we are addicted, our motivations are always mixed and our hearts are never completely pure. It can therefore be only a part of the self that makes a good choice and cooperates with it; much of the rest of the self is bound to fight it. One set of systems in the brain may choose the way of freedom and love, but countless others will immediately react with stress and mental treachery and all the other ways we have seen of trying to preserve our old normalities. Then, of course, it is all too likely we will start to rely on willpower, resolutions, and “I can handle it.”
My reflection:
May gives a profound explanation of the basic brokenness of our human situation. At the same time, he points out how God uses all of our experiences, good and bad, generous and selfish; to continually call us into new life. Once again, I would like to use one of my favorite references: Julian of Norwich, a mystic of the Middle Ages. This saintly woman tells us: first comes the fall, then the repentance. Both are an expression of God’s mercy.
Teresa of Avila put it simply, “The story of my life is the story of God’s mercy.”
In the end, the Carmelite mystic taught that God’s goodness simply overwhelms our weakness and sinfulness if we accept ourselves as we are and open our heart to God’s loving mercy. This is her insistent message of humility.
Gerald May, in his classic, Addiction and Grace, offers us great and valuable insights on the obstacles within us on our Pilgrimage to God. He shows that all of us suffer from addictions that rob our freedom and block our quest for God. The following “bit of wisdom” is a selection for his text with some reflections.
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